


what's coming to me

by mayachain



Series: birthday!verse [43]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Family Secrets, Future Fic, Gen, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Pre-Canon, Threats of Violence, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13325535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayachain/pseuds/mayachain
Summary: Three times Severus held on to hope on his birthday.Or: January 9th 1968, 1998, 2018.





	what's coming to me

**Author's Note:**

> The updated timeline to the birthday!verse is [here](http://mayachain.dreamwidth.org/59604.html).

**January 9th, 1968**

It was far too ugly and cold to be outside in Cokeworth this afternoon. Severus had to be careful not to slip on the grimy ice, and the wind kept blowing sleet in his face no matter which way he turned his head.

The last of the Christmas money was gone. Even this was better than staying at home.

During the time he’d been walking Severus had discovered one upside about the weather: There was hardly anybody else around. This meant no dodging and avoiding what Mother called the “Muggle brats”. The downside was that no matter how long he trudged around he would catch no glimpse of those sisters. 

Most days mother kept him reading until Father returned home so that the man would see that his son was not idling about. Not today. Today she had ushered him outside, the reprieve and a hastily whispered mending charm for his anorak his only birthday gifts.

 _Muggle school’s let out hours ago,_ he reminded himself, _long before I finished my lessons._ The angel - _little witch?!_ \- whose name he still didn’t know would be safe and warm wherever she lived.

 

**January 9th, 1998**

“Do you feel the fear within these walls?” Severus asked and watched Alecto’s eyes roam over those in the Great Hall. The Head Girl met her eyes and struck a commendable balance between ‘proud’ and ‘cowed’.

“The term ‘Cruciatus’ is the most-uttered word at Hogwarts at the moment,” whispered Professor Sinistra.

Only this morning Severus had received the barest of nods from Flitwick. It could have meant anything, really, but he couldn’t help but treasure it nonetheless. Especially when -

Minerva _almost_ opened her mouth to say something, but when Sprout kicked her under the table the elder Gryffindor appeared to clamp down on her impulse with everything she had. 

“So delightful,” Alecto breathed and dissolved into sniggers. Severus refused, _refused_ to shudder at the sound. 

“It is not nearly thick enough yet,” he claimed as he had every day since far too few - _far too many_ \- students had returned.

The implementation of the new punishment rules was inevitable. Every day he could buy was worth _something_. 

The other Carrow giggled at his words. _Good._ Severus nodded to him. “Let their imagination torture them for a little longer.”

 

**January 9th, 2018**

“If I had not learned how to keep a secret from everyone around me, I would not have survived as a Weasley.” Severus had to smile. For all that her cheeks had paled and her lips trembled, Victoire’s stance was firm.

He knew the girl from Teddy’s mind, from Remus’ and Neville’s tales as her teachers, from Anselme meeting her during four consecutive summers. Anselme, who had always kept far away from her own and Teddy’s other family.

Victoire had graduated Hogwarts last June and was now on her way to become a medical curse breaker, a field in which she showed every bit as much promise as her parents had in theirs. This was the woman his son was going to marry before long. 

“I’m actually unsure how to do this,” he told her. There were ten people who knew Severus’ real identity. Six in all of Britain. 

Having cast a look toward the kitchen where Remus was preparing tea, she was now watching him calmly. _Waiting me out,_ he thought. _An un-Weasley-like show of patience._ He was not afraid of her. He was not. 

“Let us start with this,” he offered, took a breath, and let his glamour dissolve.

 

.


End file.
